


15x07 Coda

by tlakht



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Coda, Episode: s15e07 Last Call, First Time, Love Confessions, M/M, dubcon-ish (but there is consent), sex when the characters aren't in a good place emotionally to be having sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21696076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tlakht/pseuds/tlakht
Summary: Dean wants to talk to Cas and and make amends. He just doesn't quite know how.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 92





	15x07 Coda

“Can we talk?” Dean says it to Cas when he catches him in the war room, about to leave without saying goodbye. His voice comes out too soft, too vulnerable. Maybe that’s a good thing. He hasn’t offered Cas anything but anger for a while now. Anger caused by things that aren’t Cas’s fault; Dean knows that. It’s just too damn easy to want to pin the blame on someone, too easy to pin it on the one person who always forgives, always comes back. Or always did – until this time. Dean should never have taken Cas for granted, should never have assumed that he was some kind of immovable rock who could take all of Dean’s abuse willingly, meekly, and still remain by his side as a steady presence for him to lean on when he needed it. Cas didn’t deserve any of that, and Dean knows he was right to leave – but that doesn’t make it less painful.

Dean has probably fucked everything up beyond repair, but leaving things as they are is not an option. He has to at least try to fix things between them – even if he has no idea how. When Cas left, it felt like a goddamn piece of him was ripped out, and watching him go again is tugging painfully at that place inside where something is missing.

Cas pauses, his back turned to Dean. “What would you even say, Dean?” His voice is laced with weariness and the same vulnerability that was present in Dean’s own voice. He turns around, and Dean can’t even begin to try to identify the layers of emotions on his face. “What can be said at this point? ‘I need you’? ‘You’re family’?” Cas’s voice turns steadily colder, and Dean recognizes it for what it is: Cas is protecting himself, protecting his emotions. “I think those arguments are beginning to grow old, don’t you? After all, there is only so much sincerity you can read into those words once you’ve been told you’re dead to someone.” ****

Dean despairs; Cas is right, of course. How the fuck does he fix this? He can’t. He can try, but he knows the way he’s treated Cas is unforgivable. Still, Cas remains where he is, looking at Dean as if he’s somehow still holding out hope that Dean has a good enough excuse, a good enough reason for his behavior. Dean wishes he did – _oh,_ how he wishes he did – but he doesn’t. There’s nothing he can say to make this right.

Cas blows a frustrated breath through his nose and begins to turn around, and Dean panics and grabs him by the wrist. “Wait,” he says, but he’s not prepared for the intensity of Cas’s gaze when he turns back and meets Dean’s eyes from only a foot apart. Dean doesn’t know how they ended up this close, nor does he know what makes him blurt, “I’m in love with you”, but there it is; now it’s out there in the open, the thing he’s never dared say out loud before, along with a feeble, defenseless hope that he knows Cas can crush easily and ruthlessly if he so chooses.

“Don’t,” Cas growls, and Dean’s heart begins a slow descent, like it’s a roller coaster at the top of a hill, preparing for the unavoidable, unforgiving plunge. “Don’t you dare use my emotions against me.”

Dean’s heart stops its descent as it thuds in surprise. Any other time, he would have been thrilled to learn of Cas’s feelings for him, but he doesn’t dare hope that mutual feelings can be enough to fix them. “Cas, I’m not trying to trick you. It’s true.”

Cas closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly, and when he opens them again, they have darkened. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

“Let me try again,” Dean half-whispers, his voice refusing to do its job properly. Cas doesn’t respond; once again he stands there, looking at Dean as if waiting to see what he will do to redeem himself. As if waiting to see if Dean’s show of affection will be adequate when weighing it against his wrongdoings, and Dean finds himself nervous about Cas’s judgment.

Dean’s fingers are skittish as they try to cup Cas’s chin; maybe it’s the frustration radiating from Cas that makes it hard for them to land fully on the stubbled jaw, but finally they settle, and Dean slowly leans in for a kiss, feeling just as skittish. Cas’s expression gives him nothing to work with, no encouragement, but Cas wants him to prove his emotions, so he will.

Cas’s lips are unyielding when Dean’s own press against them, and after a few seconds Dean withdraws, disappointed. He’s stopped by Cas’s hand on the back of his neck, however, pulling him back in. This time Cas isn’t just an active participant in the kiss; he pushes against Dean and pulls him close in an unbreakable grip. He demands entrance to Dean’s mouth, deepening the kiss, and Dean lets him. He’ll let him do anything if it means Cas will stay.

They’re both breathless when they part, but Dean can still see doubt in Cas’s eyes, and he needs to distract him from it. “Bedroom?” he asks, ignoring the tight knot of uncertainty in his stomach at the idea of having sex with someone with a male body for the first time, when they’re in a situation where they don’t have trust between them. Out of all the ways Dean has imagined this going down, this particular scenario was never one of them. But Cas nods, and Dean swallows down his hesitation and leads the way.

Dean’s bed has always been a place of comfort to him, but it doesn’t offer him much of that when Cas opens him up with his fingers, no soothing words as he touches Dean where no one has touched before, nor when Dean tells Cas to fuck him and it turns out he wasn't ready for Cas's girth like he'd thought he was.

It hurts, but Dean bears it; bears it for Cas’s sake, bears it because he deserves this. Bears it because it’s his last damn chance of keeping Cas from leaving again.

It’s a wonder that he even manages to get hard, let alone reach a pitiful orgasm with Cas’s hand on him, but maybe he’s just that pathetic in his longing for Cas, or maybe he’s some kind of masochist for emotional pain.

“Will you stay?” he asks, after, when they’re lying on each their side of the bed, not looking at each other. He knows Cas knows the significance of the question, and Dean feels flayed, turned inside-out, vulnerable in a way he’s never let himself be before.

Cas doesn’t answer. Unbidden, tears spring to Dean’s eyes and overflow when he blinks, running down into his hair on each side. But Cas still isn’t leaving, and Dean holds out hope that the answer, when Cas decides, will be yes.

Dean doesn’t know how long they lie there in silence, but at some point the emotional exhaustion overtakes him. There’s a sensation on the side of his forehead right as he begins to fall asleep, as if someone is pressing their lips against it, but it could just be the beginning of a dream.

When Dean wakes up in the morning, it’s to a cold bed and an unfamiliar ache in his body that he can’t quite remember the reason for – until he does, and his heart shatters into a million pieces.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make me super happy (even if the comment is just one word or a string of emojis!)


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